The Treasures That Remain
by mgowriter
Summary: Nate appears at Sully's door in the middle of the night and Sully is very concerned. What isn't Nate telling him? Who is the woman in Sully's house? A glimpse into Nate and Sully's life post U2 and how they end up in London at the beginning of U3.
1. Chapter 1

**mgowriter's notes**: I had a lot of fun writing "A Night to Remember," and I wanted to continue the story, turning the focus onto Sully and Nate. You definitely don't need to read it to understand this one.

A point of clarification: Sully's romantic interest in both stories is Eve, a new character. Some thought it was Marlowe and while I can see a scenario with Sully and her, I can't stomach it very well :/ Eve is described a little more in this story.

Confession: I've never studied French. The French phrase in here is straight from an online translator. For those that speak the language, please let me know if anything doesn't look right!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

Nathan Drake leaned against the glass window as he wiped away the raindrops from his face. Shivering against the wind, he looked up at the bright yellow awning that provided the only sanctuary from the relentless downpour. He peered into the large storefront window, leaving wet imprints of two cupped hands, a forehead, and nose. A towering, multitier cake met his eyes. Extending from the ground to chest level, it was decorated lavishly with lace and flowers, and pounds of icing. At the top stood a miniature groom and his plastic bride, forever locked in a kiss. Nate made out the faint letters of "Sarah's Wedding Cakes" on a banner in the dim lighting. He had probably driven by this store a hundred times before, but never gave it a second thought. _Fitting_, he thought, as he realized the storm wasn't going to lighten up any time soon, and headed back into the rain.

His heartbeat pounded in his head as he stumbled the last few blocks to his destination. The relentless rain came down in sheets, leaving little room for visibility. He felt his shoes, long ago soaked with the rest of his clothes, splatter through at least an inch of water. At the sound of a passing vehicle, he turned his head too quickly. The street spun around him. _You're a real winner, Nate. She picked a good one._

Nate walked up to the last driveway on the street, relieved to be almost out of the miserable rain. The charcoal-red bricks led to a large, two-story house with a cream-colored exterior. White pillars that supported the arched entryway of the Mediterranean style house were reflected in varying shades of gray, making the normally cheerful exterior appear much gloomier. Nate reached into his pockets and fumbled around for his keys. He frowned when the familiar jingle failed to register from either pocket. He patted them once more, and suddenly remembered why he was walking in the first place.

. . .

_"Come on, buddy, you're in no shape to drive." The bartender reached out his hand. "Give me the keys."_

_ "I'm not your buddy," Nate said, slurring his words heavily. He spun his chair around, ready to head out the door._

_ The bartender must've had lightening speed, because he was in front of Nate a second later, with his keys firmly secured._

_ "Hey," Nate said angrily. "You don't wanna mess with me." _

_ "Right," the other man said. "You can thank me in the morning. I'm calling you a cab."_

_ Nate made his way to the door. "Forget it, asshole. Keep'em. I was going for a walk anyway."_

. . .

Nate shuddered involuntarily as the wind picked up again and cut through his thin, cotton T-shirt. At least the cold was helping him think clearer. He felt around the doorway for the doorbell and pressed it. He waited, counting off the seconds. There was no reply. He tried again, this time with more urgency.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

They were on top of the bed, both of them in varying degrees of undress. He could feel the warmth radiating off her body with every breath she took. Her hand stroked the back of his neck as he kissed her shoulder, then the delicate skin over her clavicle, and her neck, moving his way up to her lips. He stopped to savor the moment, watching her close her eyes and smile in pleasure. Her lips tasted the same, just as they did during their first kiss, and for every kiss after that in the two years that followed. He asked himself how he could've ever walked away from this, and struggled to find an answer.

Her eyes fluttered open when his almost day-old stubble rubbed against her cheek.

"Victor," she said.

"Hmm?" he murmured into her neck.

"Someone's ringing your doorbell."

He pulled himself up to listen. The doorbell was in fact ringing, and at a rapid pace.

"They'll go away," he said, turning his attention back to her.

She laughed softly. "They've been at it for the last minute or two. You didn't hear?"

"I had other things on my mind," he replied.

As if to punctuate the message, the doorbell sounded again, this time emulating a loud, garbled distress signal. Its irregular beat clashed with the steady drumming of the background rain.

Sully sighed. He shuffled off the bed reluctantly and picked up his shirt from the floor. "I'll be right back."

. . .

Nate heard a muffled response behind the door after what seemed like the fiftieth ring.

"I'm coming, I'm coming! Hold your goddamn horses." Sully's voice was unmistakable as it neared from the other side.

He pulled open the door and squinted at the figure in front of him. The man was perfectly situated in front of the porch light, creating a halo around his head and hiding his features in the shadows. The plain T-shirt and jeans that he wore were soaked through, with small rivulets of rainwater dripping onto the brick doorstep. Although he couldn't see the younger man's face, Sully easily recognized who it was.

"Nate?" he said above the roar of the storm. "What the hell are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming back until tomorrow."

"Took an earlier flight," said Nate as he crossed his arms to preserve the little body heat he had left. He felt his teeth clattering together despite the effort. "You gonna let me in?"

Sully opened the door the rest of the way. "You walked here?" He asked absently, his thoughts drifting back to Eve.

"Mmhmm," Nate said as he stepped into the house. He cupped his hands together and blew on them for warmth.

Sully closed the door behind them. He was immediately taken aback by the strong, permeating scent of alcohol. It quickly spread to fill the confined space of the hallway. He gave the younger man a once over, now under a brighter light, and noticed the slight imbalance in his step.

Sully disappeared to the nearest bathroom with a frown and came back a second later.

"Here," he said, tossing a towel in Nate's direction. "You're dripping all over the hardwood."

"Gee Sully, thanks for the concern," said Nate, but he accepted the towel with gratitude. He wiped his face, arms, and scrubbed at his hair.

The smell of alcohol surrounding him grew more concentrated, and Sully's eyes followed him with renewed worry.

"Jesus, kid, you smell like you've been bathing in moonshine. You okay?"

"Yeah, great," Nate slurred his words as he pulled off his waterlogged shoes and socks, which required more energy than he expected. Two puddles formed on the floor that quickly converged into one. "The damn bartender took my keys," he said by way of explanation, gesturing at the puddle.

Sully's concern deepened with his comment. He couldn't remember the last time the kid had gotten himself this drunk.

"When did you get back?" he asked.

"This morning," Nate mumbled.

"Anything happen in L.A. that I should know about?"

It was supposed to be a simple trip to obtain some information from one of their oldest sources. The only thing that made dealing with Rick Hademan a hassle was his deep-seated conspiracy tendency, and insistence on meeting face to face for everything. Each time they needed an exchange of information, one of them had to fly across the country to Los Angeles. Either Nate or himself, or the both of them, had made the trip dozens of times.

Nate shook his head, but stopped himself. The nausea from earlier threatened to renew its stronghold.

Sully sighed. "So you decided to come home early, have a little Jack for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and…what? Add a dash of hypothermia to make it a day? Something happened. You wanna tell me what it was?"

Nate walked up to Sully and rested his hand on the older man's shoulder. "Sully, you worry too much. Can't a guy have some fun once in a while?"

He didn't give Sully a chance to respond as he walked past, on his way to the kitchen.

Sully followed the trail of wet footprints across the open floor plan of the house.

"Nate," he began, "there's something you should know."

Nate either didn't hear him or pretended not to as he rummaged around a cabinet next to the stainless steel refrigerator. Glass bottles clinked together as he searched for a specific one.

"Gotcha." Nate fished out a bottle of Ardbeg a second later. He inspected the label. "Good taste, Sully."

He grabbed some tumblers from the adjacent cabinet and poured two healthy servings of the single malt scotch. "C'mon, we're celebrating."

"Celebrating what?" Sully asked wearily as he watched Nate down a double shot in record speed.

"Freedom," Nate grinned at him, trying to focus on Sully's features. "And the American dream." He felt the warmth from the alcohol build up in his chest and followed it with a second dose of the amber liquid.

Sully took the glass away before he could pour a third. "That's enough, kid."

It took Nate a second to realize his drinking vessel was gone, but his eyes rested on Sully's untouched glass and his fingers wrapped around it a moment quicker than his friend's. The whiskey almost touched his lips before they both heard a voice coming from the next room.

"Victor?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Nate had always prided himself on having fast reflexes, but he managed to surprise both himself and Sully by maintaining them in his intoxicated state. The easily concealed, subcompact Glock 30 that he always carried on his person was pointed at the intruder in less than a second. He was equally surprised, however, to find himself staring into the barrel of an equal-caliber pistol.

"Nate!" Sully cried.

"Who are you?" Nate demanded at the stranger.

He blinked to clear his vision. The intruder was a woman, dressed in a body-hugging outfit with shades of gray and black that almost blended into the shadows. She was somewhere in her fifties, but looked much younger. Her face was beautifully crafted, striking but not overtly so. It was framed by naturally dark, almost black hair that fell below her shoulders. She stood with confidence, but more than that, an air of experience. She knew what she was doing with the weapon in her hand. Her eyes studied him with equal parts suspicion and curiosity. She was the type of person that could've made herself up to look like anyone, but the gun in her hand, aimed at Nate's head, told him she was a professional. A friend or an enemy, that left much to be explained.

"I should ask the same." The woman's voice contained a hint of an accent that Nate couldn't quite put his finger on. It sounded almost like a mixture of French and the familiar American south, but that couldn't be right. She changed the direction of her gaze toward Sully, with eyebrows raised.

Sully stepped in front of Nate to face the woman, causing her to lower her weapon. She looked at him with questioning eyes.

"It's okay," Sully said. "He's with me."

"My apologies," she said, directing her words to Nate.

Nate looked at Sully as he too lowered his pistol. He had never seen the woman before.

. . .

Sully cleared his throat. "I suppose introductions are in order. Evelyn Bordeaux, I'd like you to meet Nathan Drake." He motioned with his hand. "Nate, Evelyn."

"Sorry about the confusion, Mr. Drake." She extended her right hand, the gun from a moment ago already holstered and hidden. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Victor has told me a lot about you."

"Uh huh," Nate said as he took her hand and looked in Sully's direction. The older man shrugged his shoulders, giving him nothing. He turned his attention back to the woman.

"Who are you exactly?"

Sully interjected before she could answer. "Let's…continue this in the dining room, shall we?"

He led the way, with Evelyn following and Nate behind her. Nate noticed the two empty wine glasses as they sat at one end of the oval table. He mulled it over in his mind, but couldn't make any sense out of it. He had figured Sully and this Evelyn woman to be in the middle of a negotiation, considering the fact she was obviously in the business. Sully, for some odd reason, had always shied away from mixing business and pleasure. For all his talk, he never really pursued their female counterparts in the "antiquities acquisition" field, even when they were definitely pursing him.

"I didn't know you were on a date, Sully, and with a trained killer," Nate said, hoping to tease out the truth. "Not exactly your type."

Sully gave him a disapproving look. "It's not a date. Eve—Evelyn and I," he corrected, "worked together a long time ago. She was in the area, and had some news for me."

Nate caught the exchange between them. Sully continued before he could comment.

"Guess who just surfaced in Paris?"

Nate gave him a look, but decided not to press the issue. "Who?"

"Give you a hint. You like to call her the wicked witch of England."

Nate sat up in his chair. "Marlowe?"

"Uh huh. After five years. And she had the goddamn cipher disk with her. I've seen the pictures."

Nate was silent as he let the information sink in. Marlowe had never left them alone after the day Nate took Francis Drake's ring from her. Her appearing in public with the cipher disk in hand meant she was after something big. She wouldn't show it unless she had to. He shook his head and sighed. He didn't know if he could take any more news today.

Evelyn caught Sully's gaze as he turned his attention away from Nate.

"You two are now…partners?"

"Family," Nate said at the same time, with too much force in his voice. He stood and placed his arm around Sully's shoulders. "Sully's the only family I have, or ever need. The type of family that doesn't pack up and leave in the middle of the night. The best goddamn family there is."

. . .

Sully closed his eyes as the pieces fell into place. Elena. So that was it. He opened them to see Nate trying his hardest to mask the look of hurt on his face.

He sat Nate, who had most of his body weight leaning on him, back down in the chair. The kid's soaked shirt had now turned ice-cold, and Sully wondered how it was possible that he wasn't still shivering.

"Nate, change out of those clothes before you catch pneumonia."

He didn't wait for an answer, but instead motioned for Evelyn to follow him. They returned through the kitchen, living room, and finally the front entryway. Sully exhaled deeply when they reached the door. He ran his hand through his hair, thinking how implausible it was for so many things to coincide in one night.

"Eve, I'm sorry—"

He was silenced with the touch of her finger on his lips.

"Don't be," she said softly, her eyes searching his. "I'm glad I came. You've…changed, Victor." She looked back from the way they came. "I'm willing to bet a lot of it has to do with him."

"He's not…usually like this," said Sully in explanation.

"No," she said, "that's not what I meant. I guess…I never thought you'd end up, well, raising a kid, especially in our business. You're obviously important to him; whatever he's going through, he ended up at your doorstep tonight."

She stepped forward to kiss him. Her lips lingered on his for a few longing seconds.

"Go, take care of him. I'll be in town for another night, at the Waterfront."

It was an open invitation, leaving it up to him to make the next move. Sully nodded, neither a promise nor a rejection. Both scenarios ran their course through his mind and he couldn't decide which was worse, to have her for one night and have to let her go again, or to not have her at all.

She seemed to read his thoughts. "Whatever you do, don't let another twenty years go by before we see each other again."

He studied her features, trying hard not to imagine how his life could've been different.

Her lips grazed his cheek one last time as she said her parting words. "_Jusqu'à demain_."

She was out the door and walking down the street in the now drizzling rain before Sully could respond_. Until tomorrow_. It was their goodbye every night in the two years they were together. He watched her retreating figure until it blended with the darkness and she disappeared into the night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Sully fully expected to find Nate in the same position as he had left, but was surprised to see the kid had taken his advice for once and changed out of the wet clothes. His disposition, however, had not improved. He sat in a faded zip-up sweatshirt and jeans, facing the far wall, staring into nothing.

Sully sighed. He headed into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of scotch along with the two old-fashioned glasses. Returning to the table, he poured both of them a drink.

Nate looked at him, but didn't say anything. Sully raised his glass and downed the contents.

Slowly, as if acting through a haze, Nate mirrored his actions to return the salute.

"You're a bad influence, Sully," he said, as he set the glass down.

Sully laughed. "A little too late for that, isn't it?"

Nate attempted a smile that failed to reach his eyes. "Yeah, a little too late."

There was a long pause before either man spoke.

"When did she leave?" Sully asked.

"I don't know," said Nate, now staring into the empty space behind Sully. "I came home from the airport and her clothes were gone. She left a note; an address, I should say. Somewhere in Yemen."

"Yemen?" Sully echoed.

"A foreign correspondent job. She's been talking about it for a couple of weeks."

"Did she say how long the assignment was?"

Nate shook his head. "She's not coming back."

"You don't know—"

Nate turned toward him angrily.

"Don't give me that bullshit, Sully. You and I both know that this is the last time. This time it's for real."

Sully started to say something, but changed his mind. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry, kid."

When Nate responded, his voice was much subdued.

"I loved her, Sully. I love her still. She's the one. It's not supposed to work like this."

"Sometimes, kid, love isn't enough."

Nate turned to look at his friend. The statement wasn't something he expected to hear from the older man.

"Who was that woman?"

"Evelyn?" Sully asked. "I told you, someone I used to work with."

Nate shook his head. "No. She's not just an old contact, or one of your 'girl in every city' types. I saw the way you looked at her."

Sully poured himself another drink. "Okay. Say you're right. We had a…history together. Believe it or not, I know a little bit about what you're feeling right now."  
>"So you two were what, lovers? Engaged? Married? How come I've never seen or even heard of her?"<p>

"That," Sully said, finishing his second round, "is not what we're here to discuss." He changed the subject back to Elena. "Think about it, Nate. In the year that you've been married, you've lived together for what, three months? You're never home. A day here, two days there; that's not something most women will agree to. It's not something you can ask her to just accept."

Nate turned on Sully, his anger helped along by the alcohol. "So this is my fault? Is that it? I don't want her coming along with us because it's dangerous and I'm worried that she might get injured or killed, and I'm the bad guy?"

"Kid," Sully said, raising his hands up. "I'm on your side here."

Nate stopped the next words out of his mouth but the anger remained in his eyes.

"Look," Sully said, "Elena came to me a couple of days ago, really upset. Said she was considering taking a different job. I didn't know it was going to be half way around the world."

"And you didn't talk her out of it?" Nate asked.

"Nate, she was crying her goddamn eyes out. For two hours, she sat there on my couch and cried. Do you know how that made me feel? Like shit. Because I care about her, too. I care about the goddamn both of you. I told her to wait until you came back and to talk about it. And why the hell didn't you tell her you were going to L.A.? She said you just walked out the door."

Nate shook his head heatedly.

"What are you gonna do?" Sully asked.

"Nothing. If she doesn't want to be with me, I can't force her to."

"Look, kid, you can fix this. You have to go after her."

"No," Nate said, with conviction. He stopped Sully before he could interject. "It's for the better. She's probably safer where she is than with me."

Nate took a deep breath. He didn't know if he wanted to believe what he had just said. Images of Elena rushed into his mind on a seemingly endless loop. He saw her the first time they met, on the small boat, about to recover Francis Drake's coffin; her excitement was palpable and it made his heart race standing next to her. He saw her on the night of their first official date, after the fiasco with Roman and Navarro; they cashed in some of the gold and went to the most expensive restaurant they could find. She looked stunning in her navy blue dress and he couldn't stop staring. When they both decided to take a break a year later, he kept the dress in the back of the closet, so she wouldn't see it when she packed. He saw her again on the night that he proposed. His hands trembled so much he thought he was going to drop the engagement ring. The look in her eyes when she opened the box made the rest of the world dissolve, until it was just them, in their apartment, staring at the person they would spend the rest of their lives with.

. . .

Nate had been subconsciously playing with his wedding band and now looked down at the platinum ring. He slid it off, and studied the inscription: _August 22, 2010_.

He held up the ring for Sully to see. "Remember this, Sully? When you almost didn't find them in time for the wedding?"

"Do I remember it?" Sully scoffed. "It was the most terrifying ten minutes of my life. Elena's mother almost had me murdered, behind the flower truck."

Nate smiled at the image. "Nah, she had like a thing for you. She asked me a couple of times if you were seeing anyone."

"God I hope you said I was."

Nate's smile widened, briefly. "Nope. I said…what was it? That you were 'definitely in the market, looking for the right someone.' I think it made her day."

"Great, thanks," Sully said. "That won't make the next meeting awkward at all."

Nate's smile faded as quickly as it appeared. "There won't be a next meeting, Sully."

"Now, kid—" Sully began.

Nate stopped him before he could say anything else. He looked down at the ring again as the meaning of his own words started to sink in. He rose from his seat and walked to the nearest window, pausing briefly in front of it as he realized what he was about to do. He saw his hand flip the lock switch to pull it open. Before Sully could react, he threw the ring into the darkness, with as much force as he could.

"Nate!" said Sully, at a loss for words.

Nate turned from the window. His eyes were a mixture of grief and exhaustion.

"I'm tired, Sully." His voice was drained of energy. "I can't think about this anymore. I'm going to sleep."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Goddammit," Sully said under his breath, as he watched Nate ascend the staircase. He walked to the front door and searched for a flashlight in the nearest closet. Pulling up the collar of his shirt, he ventured into the sprinkling rain and began searching the grass. He was lucky to catch the reflection from the corner of his eye after just a few minutes of searching. The house was quiet as he made his way back to the dining table. He stared at the ring for a long time, remembering a warm August day a little more than a year ago.

. . .

_August 22, 2010_

Sully breathed heavily as he made his way into the shade to lean against the cool brick wall. He could feel tiny beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"That's what you get for smoking all those cigars," Nate said as he walked up to him.

Sully waved a dismissive hand at him, still catching his breath. "I've just spent the last ten minutes chased by Cruella de Vil while trying to find two pieces of metal smaller than the size of a quarter." He loosened his bowtie to let in a little more air. "You try doing that and deep breathing exercises at the same time."

"C'mon, Elena's mother isn't that bad," Nate said. "She likes you."

Sully gave him a look. "Not when she thinks I've lost her precious daughter's wedding band. Try her then."

Nate grinned. "So you found them?"

Sully reached into his pocket and pulled out the rings. "Piece of cake. You forget what I do for a living."

Nate laughed at his comment. "You're right, and good timing, too. We're on in a couple of minutes."

"Did you see the crowd out there?" Sully asked.

Both men looked toward the garden, where rows of white chairs sat facing a beautifully decorated platform, and flowers adorned every inch of the venue. The natural blossoms of the garden blended seamlessly with the equally elaborate human touches.

"I took a peek," said Nate.

"Chloe's here," Sully said casually.

Nate eyed him with mock suspicion. "Sully, you wouldn't. At my wedding?"

Sully gave him a reprehensive look. "With a guest, I was about to say. Some guy named Cutter. They seem very…friendly."

Nate shook his head. "I always knew she was a heartbreaker. Sorry, old man."

Sully laughed, just as a woman with a microphone headset approached them.

"I need the groom and best man," she said, and motioned them to follow her.

Sully looked to Nate. "You ready for this, kid?"

"As I'll ever be, I guess," said Nate. He turned to follow the woman.

"Wait," said Sully. He quickly inspected Nate's tuxedo, making a small adjustment to his lapel before doing the same to his own.

"Nate," Sully said, almost with hesitation.

"Hmm?"

"I'm…proud of you, kid."

"Aw, Sully, I'm not going to have to get a tissue box for you, too, am I?"

Sully shook his head. He muttered something about "never taking anything seriously" before clearing his throat. "C'mon, let's do this."

. . .

He could feel the nervous energy projecting off of Nate as he stood just a couple of feet away from the happy couple. In front of them, the Justice of the Peace was an elderly man with snow-white hair and a portly body. Although dressed in layers, he seemed to be weathering the heat and humidity better than anyone else.

Nate held Elena's hand with his left, but his right was occupied with an imaginary keyboard on his leg. The kid did that every time he had to stand at still for a decent amount of time, and never grew out of it. Sully sometimes swore he was raised by a group of monkeys that discouraged any kind of attention span-building activities.

Although Nate was a nervous wreck, he couldn't keep his eyes off of Elena. Sully didn't blame him. She was radiant, standing in the afternoon sun. Her simple and elegant dress flowed with every movement. She had eyes only for Nate, and their love was undeniable.

Sully heard the request for the rings and handed them over, glad that his part in the wedding ended smoothly. The Justice of the Peace continued:

_The wedding ring is a symbol of unity, a circle unbroken, without beginning or end. Today Nathan and Elena give and receive these rings as demonstrations of their vows to make their lives one, to work at all times to create a life that is whole and unbroken, and to love each other without end._

_Nathan, take the ring which you have selected, place it on Elena's finger, and say to her these words. _

Nate placed the ring carefully on Elena's finger.

_With this ring, I thee wed…_

"With this ring, I thee wed…" he repeated.

…_and with it, I bestow upon thee all the treasures…_

"…and with it, I bestow upon thee all the treasures…"

…_of my mind, heart, and soul._

"…of my mind, heart, and soul."

The man now turned to Elena. _Elena, take the ring which you have selected, place it on Nathan's finger, and say to him these words…_

. . .

Sully smiled at the memory. He could still see Nate and Elena's goofy grins as they were pronounced husband and wife for the first time. Drifting back to reality, his thoughts returned to Eve. He wanted for Nate what he never had, a chance at a life with the woman that he truly loved. He looked at the platinum ring one more time, grabbed it off the table, and placed it securely in his pocket.

Sully walked up the stairs and took a left turn, away from his room. Passing an office and storage room along the way, he ended up at the end of the hall, in front of a door similar to his own. He grabbed the doorknob and gently turned it clockwise, listening for the soft "click" that disengaged the latch from the metal plate. He entered quietly, careful not to wake its occupant.

He looked around for a second, recognizing the familiar books on the wall that had stayed even after Nate moved out of the house. Sully had kept the room unchanged, and for the first few years, the kid slept there almost as much as he did at his own place.

Sully sat down at the edge of the bed. He kept telling himself that he should probably stop calling him "kid" one of these days. He wasn't a kid anymore; Nate was getting close to 35 years old. But when he looked at him, he often still saw the fifteen-year-old, underweight, off-the-streets boy lying in the same place. The kid still slept on his stomach, for God's sake.

Sully reached over and did something he hadn't done in a long time. He ruffled Nate's hair, as he had so many other times during his younger years, to tell him he did a good job, to tease him about a missed assignment on the job, or to assure him that everything was going to be okay, even when it seemed like there was no way out.

He watched the even breathing reflected in the rise of fall of Nate's body.

"You're gonna be okay, kid," he said to the sleeping figure. "The both of you."


	6. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Nate woke to the faint sounds of glasses clinking and silverware clattering from downstairs. Knowing what it meant, he grinned widely, and climbed quickly out of bed. He steadied himself against the wall as he stood, feeling the residual symptoms from the alcohol. His stomach growled, and he headed for the door. The smell of bacon, sizzling on the stovetop, wafted up the stairs to meet him. He hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Sully, you shouldn't have," Nate said, as he took a seat at the counter opposite the cooking area. "What's the occasion?"

The older man poured two cups of steaming coffee and set one in front of Nate. He surveyed the younger man carefully, looking for remnants of the previous night.

"I need an occasion to make breakfast?" he asked.

Nate took a sip of the familiar, dark Colombian roast before he spoke. "Not just any breakfast. You used to make this every Sunday morning, before we went to the shooting range. Remember that?"

"I can't believe you still do. It was close to twenty years ago."

"Hey, a guy doesn't easily forget the first time he feels the recoil of a 45. It's one of life's special moments."

Sully shook his head in amusement. Spatula in hand, he piled a heaping pile of scrambled eggs to a plate, followed by bacon, toast, and a thick slab of butter.

"Eat up. I have a few errands to run today and I don't want to hear about that hangover of yours."

Nate, just about to dig in with his fork, set the utensil down. "Sully, you don't have to babysit me. I'm fine. Look at me, don't I look fine?"

Sully studied him behind his own mug of coffee, holding back any comment.

Nate stabbed at a huge piece of bacon, and followed it with a bite of the warm, cheddar-infused scrambled eggs. He closed his eyes and smiled.

"Tastes like childhood. I gotta say, old man, your shooting might be getting worse, but the cooking is only getting better."

"Cute," said Sully humorlessly, as he put down his mug.

Nate ate a couple more mouthfuls before he set his fork aside.

"So…I have a plan."

Sully shook his head. "Uh uh. No way. It's too soon."

"Hear me out."

"No way," Sully repeated. "You have that look in your eyes. This is going to be another one of those plans that end up with us in the middle of the jungle, fighting off an army of thugs who work for some filthy rich, corrupt, crazy son-of-a-bitch that wants some ancient artifact so he can take over the world."

"You don't even know what the plan is," Nate reasoned.

"I hate it already," said Sully.

"Okay," Nate said, "so you're right about the filthy rich, corrupt, and crazy part, but it's not a man; it's someone we know. Marlowe."

"Come again?" Sully asked.

"She needs the ring, and we need the cipher disk. We find a way to get the cipher disk, decode Drake's journal, and we find the lost treasure. Think about it, Sully, ships _full_ of lost treasure. How can you say no to that?"

Sully leaned forward, drawn into the discussion despite himself. "You've got one problem. How do you expect Marlowe to give up the cipher disk?"

"We don't," said Nate with a smile. "We give her what she wants, Drake's ring."

Sully stared at Nate as if he'd lost his mind.

"A fake ring," said Nate hurriedly. "We let her look at the real thing, and make the switch at the last minute. We follow the ring to the cipher disk."

"And what?" Sully said skeptically, "We're just going to take the disk? That thing's going to be guarded with enough firepower to level a city."

Nate leaned back in his chair. "Have a little faith, Sully. We'll get an inside man to do the finesse work. It'll be in and out. No one will notice it's gone until we're back home. It's gonna be a piece of cake."

"You know one of Marlowe's agents?" Sully asked.

"That," Nate hesitated, "is the tricky part. But hey, I figure between Chloe and Cutter, one of them has to know someone who knows someone else, right? It's a…minor detail."

Sully frowned at the idea of the "minor detail."

"I still don't like it."

"C'mon, Sully, I need this right now. Besides, I know we could both use the money. If we find the treasure, we can retire and sip tropical drinks on our own private island for the rest of our lives. Think about it…the Isle of Drake and Sullivan. Drullivan Isle. It has a nice ring to it, no?"

Sully sighed, knowing the dangers of the plan but at the same time knowing he wasn't going to say no to the kid.

"I hope you know what you're doing. Marlowe isn't someone to be taken lightly."

"Relax, Sully. We'll go to London, visit a couple of museums, have a couple of drinks, and walk out with the cipher disk. What could go wrong?"

"About a million things," Sully replied.

Nate gave him a look.

"Okay, okay," said Sully in defense. "Obviously, you can count me in. But don't say I didn't warn you. It's gonna be a bumpy ride."


End file.
